


Learning

by TheLiminality



Series: High Violet [3]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Angst, BBC Sherlock - Freeform, Gen, Mental Illness, Sherlock Is A Bit Not Good, injuries
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-28
Updated: 2013-05-28
Packaged: 2017-12-13 06:52:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 416
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/821320
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheLiminality/pseuds/TheLiminality
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"You will learn to survive me." - The National (covering Perfume Genius, "Learning". (listen here: http://altimetres.tumblr.com/post/51582410770/sleekills-arcarsenals)</p><p> I do not know what you expect. Do you expect me to spread my arms and catch you? Hold you close to me and soothe away these worries that seem to be fermenting so deeply right in between the cortex's of your mind? That is a wine I will not drink.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Learning

**Author's Note:**

> This is the third installment of my High Violet series. Sherlock and John are as mentally unstable as ever.
> 
> The title may be confusing. "Learning" is a song by the amazing musician Perfume Genius. And it so happens that The National covered it during their new time together with Trouble Will Find Me released. 
> 
> I think I am going to do 6 more short stories based on The National songs (or covers). So if you have suggestions, please tell me.

Oh, John. How did I ever believe you were so simple? Forgive me for I did not see the complexities that lie behind your changing eyes. I see the way you look at me. How your breathing changes and fluctuates with your pulse against your neck when we’re sitting side by side. Arousal? No. It seems a bit like fear. 

Do you fear me John? I fear, ironically, that you must. What do you see when you look at me? A faux form of perfection. Darkness. Emptiness. Untimely fullness. You must feel as though you’re standing right on the edges of my mind and you constantly take the jump. And fall.  
And fall.  
And fall.   
I do not know what you expect. Do you expect me to spread my arms and catch you? Hold you close to me and soothe away these worries that seem to be fermenting so deeply right in between the cortex's of your mind? That is a wine I will not drink. 

It will leave you drunk and dizzy around me at a near constant pace. I fill you with adrenaline because I bring you close to the ledges of death. And you’re the only one who is brave and foolish enough to follow. You’re learning, my dear John. You repel water from your lungs when we come close to drowning. You apply pressure to gaping wounds where bone is exposed to the elements of a murky London with steady, calloused hands. You hold a gun to your head to prove yourself to me. Oh, John. What a magical moment that was. Life could have easily bled right out of you. Yet you did it anyway. Followed that foolish, damaged gut of yours. And I could not be more proud. 

Does promising you’ll learn to survive me count as friendship? Courtship? One day, John, you will realize what a mistake we’ve made. It will no longer seem like a fable where lessons are gathered and kept. You will be thrown back into that dull reality and come to the realization that you’ve never been safe. With or without me. Physically safe, yes. You could take a man down in moments. But I have obstructed your justice. I fear, my John Watson, I have stained your mind with oils and memories. Ones you won’t ever be able to wash away, no matter how your fingers scrape against brain matter. 

You will learn to survive me.   
I won't ever learn to survive without you.


End file.
